


Point Taken

by fhartz91



Series: Daddies Klaine [32]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, daddies klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: After Blaine volunteers Kurt to create a one-of-a-kind gingerbread showstopper at the last minute, Kurt whips up a special batch of cookies to show him how he feels.





	Point Taken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Klaine Advent 2018 prompt 'gingerbread'

“Why do you always do this!?” Kurt grumbles, brushing past his husband to get to the oven, wishing the insufferable man would go do something else for a couple of hours and leave him be. It’s bad enough that Blaine got him roped into this mess. He’s adding insult to injury by standing around and watching.

“Why do I always do what?” Blaine asks, inching sneakily towards the counter in search of a gumdrop to pilfer.

“I was _done_!” Kurt reaches around Blaine for a piping bag of Royal Icing, smacking Blaine’s hand as it closes in on the candy dish. “Finished! I had the cupcakes frosted, the candy canes wrapped, and a three-tier white chocolate cake completely decorated with a winter scene straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting! Then _you_ go ahead and promise the PTA a gingerbread house! And not just _any_ gingerbread house! A showstopper! For their auction!”

“I just thought, you know, since you were already doing so much baking, it wouldn’t be that big a deal.”

“The baking isn’t a big deal, Blaine! It’s the construction! I know these people! They won’t be satisfied with a humble home or a quaint little cottage! They’ll expect an Alpine ski resort! Santa’s village! Or a castle! Elsa’s ice castle out of the movie _Frozen_! If you’re going around making promises, how come you’re not the one doing the cooking?”

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I really am. But I can’t help it. You’re a miracle worker!”

“Yes, I am, but you acknowledging that doesn’t make this any better!”

“If it’s any consolation, everything smells _amazing_! I can’t wait till tonight when I get to try one of your cookies.”

Kurt looks at his husband, his scowl of aggravation morphing with frightening quickness into a sly grin.

“Why wait?” He grabs one of the plates covered in tin foil on the kitchen island. “I actually whipped you up a special plate of cookies … and you don’t have to share them with Tracy.”

“You did?” Blaine receives the plate with a fond (and relieved) smile. He peels off the foil, eager to sample one of Kurt’s delectable cookies, famous in three of the five Boroughs. “And after what I did? You’re too …” Blaine stops when he reveals the cookies, a knot of confusion forming between his brows “These are mine?”

“Yes, they are.”

“And … they’re gingerbread men?”

“That’s right.”

“Uh …” Blaine examines the cookies – five men in all, three with x’s for eyes; one with a wide, panicked expression; and one without a head (attached. It’s lying beside its body). Instead of the bright red Santa suits and frilly Mrs. Santa dresses Kurt’s other gingerbread cookies sport, one of Blaine’s cookies has been bound with licorice rope; another has been selectively burnt to a crisp; and all five of them have been stuck with candy pins; the headless one with a thin, sugar-candy stick through its crotch. They all have distinguishing characteristics that make Blaine gulp hard – curly black hair, massive eyebrows, and bright red bow ties. The burnt one is wearing a Dalton blazer (which Blaine thinks might be a step too far past good taste, but at this point, he’s not saying a word). “But … they look like voodoo dolls.”

“They are.”

“And they all look like _me_.”

“That’s right.”

“Should I … be worried?”

Kurt swings by, kissing Blaine on the forehead before he fetches a chilled ball of dough from the freezer. “Only if you ever do this to me again.”

Blaine nods, picking up the severed head of the headless cookie and popping it in his mouth. Voodoo doll or not, it’s still Kurt’s secret recipe.

And it’s delicious.

“Mmm,” Blaine says, going for the licorice rope. “Point taken.”

 

 

 


End file.
